The Truth Lies Here
by TheFoundersDaughter
Summary: You think you know the full story as to why Morgana hates Arthur with such venom? You think you know why she changed so much after she was poisoned? You think you know why Mordred never had a family? You think you know the truth between these three? Wrong. You don't. But the truth, it does lie here. Rated T for suggestions of Rape. No defined Ships involved in this story.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey there! I'm sure you're probably wondering where this idea came from, and actually, it came to me from the song 'Mordred's Lullaby'. I wanted to combine both the original legends, and the TV show together, and this seemed to be the best way to do it. It's not immensely detailed, and I did that on purpose. More for your own minds to wonder about. Please, enjoy my dark, demented mind. WARNING: Rated M for suggestions of rape.**

_Hush child, the Darkness will Rise from the Deep,  
And, carry you Down into Sleep,  
Child, the Darkness will Rise from the Deep,  
And, Carry you Down into Sleep._

At age twelve, Morgana Le Fay's father died. He had been killed in battle, fighting Uther Pendragon's war. When news reached her and her maid, young Gwen, in Camelot's majestic castle, she didn't believe it. Her father, dead? No, it would never happen.

But, slowly, the reality dawned on her. Her father never came home, and soon her belongings that had been left at her home where she lived with her father were being brought to the room she had been living in during her father's absence, in Uther's castle. Soon after, grief consumed her. She refused to eat, to move, to change her clothes, or even brush her hair. Getting out of her bed, to stare vacantly out of her window, had become an immense torture.

Soon, she had become grievously ill. Her body had become frail, weak, her mind, clouded. She still barely allowed herself to do anything more than drink a few sips of water, and often had to be pinned down and have food forced down her throat. Her nightmares got worse, and she felt as if she were losing her mind.

In a way, she was.

It took weeks, months, even, for her to step outside of her room. She had suffered greatly through malnourishment, and numerous sicknesses, and her body and mind were both weak.

She allowed Gwen to wash and brush her hair, slowly and painfully removing the knots and tears and everything sad and broken. Her hair, dulled over the months of neglect, shone in bright vibrancy, and fell down her back, almost like a pair of black wings. She wore a lovely, flowing green dress, making her eyes shine. She held to Gwen for support as she made her way down to the castle corridors and stairs to the grand hall. She knew before she stepped through the doors that it would be elaborately decorated, with flowers hanging from the pillars, men dressed in gallant outfits, and ladies in pretty dresses made of satin and silk.

Today was her thirteenth birthday.

She clutched tightly onto Gwen's hand, and she nodded at the two knights guarding the door. The doors swung open, and it was everything she knew it would be. Red and white flowers hanging from the pillars, red silken banners hung between them. A long table stood in the middle of the room, laden with fruits, meats, and silver goblets full of wine. Another table stood at the end of the room, three seats of grandeur showing that it was a place for Royalty only.

Uther stood up, and called out to the now quiet guests, "Ladies and Gentlemen, the Lady Morgana."

Morgana pondered for a moment as to why he would suddenly be calling her 'Lady Morgana', and she thought that, perhaps this was the formal way of telling the Kingdom that she was now his ward, under his care, and completely under his control.

Some birthday present.

Still, she walked down the room, smiling graciously at the guests who were here in her honour. When she reached the table where Uther and a young Arthur stood, she lifted the front of her dress slightly, as a type of curtsy. Uther smiled down at her, and beckoned her to the seat on his left. She looked at Gwen as she took her seat at the table, fear in her eyes. She wasn't used to being around people after so long of solitude, and the constant flow of hatter and laughter had become an alien noise to her. Gwen gave her a small, reassuring smile, as she stood to the side of the room with the other servants.

Gwen was younger than she was, only having turned eleven a few months beforehand, but she was the most loyal, warm, kind person Morgana could have hoped to meet.

Uther, still standing, lifted a small, intricately decorated silver box, "My birthday present to you." He handed the box to her, and she looked at it, in a slight wonder. It was very beautiful, almost too beautiful. Slowly, she lifted the lid, and inside, lying in the folds of black velvet, there lay a silver chain, long enough to be a necklace. She lifted it, and an emerald, hanging from the chain as a pendant, came into view.

She beamed at Uther, "Thank you, my Lord. It is truly beautiful."

The night passed slowly, as Morgana forced herself to dance, accept presents, and eat. How she wished it could pass faster. The wine made her giddy, and the food made her feel sick, but she continued, trying her hardest to please her new carer.

She was probably one of the last to retire to her chambers, after many of the Ladies and Lords had left to their own homes earlier in the night. When she fell against the bed, she was asleep almost instantly, and had, for once, a dreamless rest.

_**Merlin**_

Finally, she had begun to open up again. She came out of her room regularly, letting herself into society again at a slow pace.

It was only a few weeks after her birthday that she saw Arthur boasting in the training field about his sword ship skills to the other young knights in training. She smirked to herself. _I'll show him._

"Now, when you lunge at your opponent, you must make sure to keep steady, and hold onto your sword with a tight hand, and not drop it."

"What, like you do?" Morgana called from the fence that she leant against, her arms crossed, her expression smug.

"What are you talking about Morgana?"

"Oh, nothing. Just how you can never hold your sword upright on your own, let alone against an opponent."

"Oh, and you could do better?"

She smiled, and walked over to the post with weapons. She unsheathed a sword, "As a matter of fact," she pointed it at him, "I can."

She swung her sword at him, and he deflected it, just in time by his own, the swords clanging together. Next, she spun on the spot, her raven hair flying, brought down the sword from the air and aimed for his ankles. With a sharp crack, the sword hit its target, and Arthur fell, splayed on the grassy floor.

"I told you I could do better Arthur." She winked, dug the sword into the ground, and left the training ground, grinning to herself proudly.

_**Merlin**_

Arthur's birthday soon passed, and his was less Lords and Ladies, and more ale and knights. She attended the feast, of course, but retired after a few hours.

Barely two months later and it was Uther's birthday. Morgana wore a long, clingy, red dress, the emerald jewelled necklace hanging at her throat, and, for her first time, makeup. She felt like the belle of the ball, but, it soon occurred, she most certainly was not. This day was all about Uther, alcohol, and laughter. She danced with a few courtiers, once or twice with Arthur, and even with Uther. The night was so happy, but, as she knew well, happiness never seemed to last very long.

She left for her chamber's when she felt as if walking would cause her an injury, which, in her state of alcohol consumption, was not hard to imagine. Bidding farewell to the guests, and goodnight to the two Pendragons, she walked through the white halls and corridor's, giggling to herself. She welcomed the sight of her bed with grateful eyes.

"Gwen?" she called out, and the young girl appeared from the small alcove where the spare bed for Gwen was.

"Here, my Lady."

"Oh, Gwen…you should really be home with your father."

Gwen shook her head, "I wanted to make sure you were well."

Morgana smiled, "You really are too kind to me."

"Well, you're my friend. It's the least I can do." She returned the smile, "Would you like me to help you into your nightdress?"

Morgana laughed a little, "Please. I feel quite…giddy…" she held onto one of the posts as an indication.

"I'm not surprised, my Lady."

"Oh, stop calling me that would you? We're friends, as you said. Surely that means we can call each other by our names?"

"Of course, My-Morgana." Gwen gave a small giggle, and then helped Morgana change into her nightdress, and into bed, "Goodnight, Morgana."

"Goodnight Gwen. Go home, it's late."

Gwen nodded, "Thank you."

Gwen left the room, and soon, Morgana succumbed to sleep.

_**Merlin**_

She woke suddenly, shocked awake by a bang. Her door. She looked over, to see a figure standing there. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Arthur.

She shook her head, bewildered, "Arthur? What are you doing here?"

He didn't answer her, instead, staggered over to her, he smell of alcohol coming off of him in waves. He smiled at her. She thought she should be comforted by that, but she wasn't. The smile was all wrong. _So wrong._

"Arthur? What are you doing?" he still didn't answer her, and as he got closer to her, his smile got worse and worse.

"M'gana…" he slurred and climbed onto her bed. He pulled the blanket from her, and as she tried to fight him off pulled at her nightdress, and forced his mouth onto hers.

Oh, how she hoped and prayed that what would happen next wouldn't, but soon, her screams echoed around her mind as Arthur covered her mouth with his hand as he pleasured himself, thrusting in and out of her.

When, at last, he spilled his seed inside of her body and left her, there was blood on the bed, blood on her legs, and over her hands as she held her head as she screamed. Screamed and screamed and screamed, until at long last, a guard came to her. He saw her, and instantly shouted down the hall to where another Guard stood, waiting for commands, "Get the Court Physician!"

_**Merlin**_

**A/N2: I really hope you liked the first chapter! This story will probably only be around three or four chapters long, and should hopefully be updated weekly, as I have to go back and watch a few episodes for this… please review and**** tell me what you think! **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you so much for all your reviews! They help me to carry on writing! I've lowered the rating to T as, even though it has the last scene, it isn't anything a teenager can't handle. I mean, if a 17 year old can write it, why not be able to read it? :P **

_**Merlin**_

It didn't take long to realize what had happened, considering the blood covering her, and her screams. Gaius ran into her, and upon gazing at her, immediately went to her side, and wrapped his arms around her.

"Who did this to you?" he gained no reply but her sobs, wracking their way into his chest, "My poor child, who did this?"

"_Arthur!_" her answer, barely a whisper escaped her lips through the sobs.

"Fetch the King." He called to the guard who had found Morgana. He gave a swift nod, and quickly left.

"No! No he…he can't know!"

"Morgana, child, he must know."

She shook her head, tears dripping down her cheeks, "No. No, no, no."

Gaius felt he could do nothing for her but comfort her at that moment.

"Gaius, what has happened? Why did you call upon me?" Uther's voice boomed from the entrance of Morgana's chambers.

Morgana instantly recoiled back into herself, hugging her knees to her chest. Gaius stood up, and walked over to the King, "Sire…I have grievous news." He hesitated.

"What is it?"

"The Lady Morgana… Sire…she has been raped."

Uther's heart almost stopped, "What?"

"Sire… she said that… Arthur, did this to her."

"No. No, he… he wouldn't." he walked over to where Morgana was huddled, her own blood pooled around her, "Dear God…" he put a hand on her shoulder, "Morgana, my dear, who did this to you?"

It was as if she couldn't talk, couldn't move, couldn't breathe. But at the same time, it seemed as if she had so much anger, so much sorrow, so much damage, that every feeling came out in one, screamed word, "_Arthur!_"

And then, she curled back into herself, and shut out the world.

Arthur, himself, couldn't remember the night before. He had been so drunk, so intoxicated, that memory failed him. His day continued as any normal day would, training young noble boys in the art of swordfight, flirting with young Ladies, ordering servants to clean his chambers. Everything for him seemed perfectly…normal.

It was almost a month later when she finally took up Uther's request for her to join him for dinner. She wore the most drab, loose fitting dress she owned, and let her hair fall around her face, hiding it. She came to the dinner, and as she sat across from Arthur, she refused to look at him. The courses came, and as she looked at the food, she felt sick. _It's just because_ he's _here_, she told herself.

But, as the evening continued, and she attempted to eat the fine foods, she could feel the bile rising in her throat. She suddenly pushed her chair from the table, and proceeded to vomit all over her dress.

"Morgana!" Uther almost leapt from his seat, and rushed to his wards side. He held back her hair, as a fresh wave of bile worked its way up her throat, and onto her dress. He swiftly lifted her up, and called to an on-looking Guard, "Inform the Court Physician the Lady Morgana is in need of attention."

"Sire." The Guard nodded, before taking off, in an almost run.

When the King reached

"Does she have a sickness, infection?"

It barely took Gaius an examination. He feared that he had known the answer already. "No…No, My Lord… the Lady Morgana is pregnant."

_**Merlin**_

In the months that came to pass, the people of Camelot became under the impression that Morgana had contracted an incapacitating disease.

Of course, there were always a few that questioned it. Not that they spoke it aloud of course, fear of being prosecuted was still a heavy weight on the people of Camelot's shoulders.

Arthur questioned it openly, seemingly not believing the story his father had weaved, "I don't think it's that simple, Father. How could she have contracted a disease so quickly, without warning?" Over and over he asked, until, at last, Uther cracked.

"Enough!" he shouted, "She is sick, grievously so. It would do you well to leave her be, and leave your questions in your mind."

Morgana stayed in her room, never leaving. The only light she gained was through the small window in her bedroom that she stood by as often as possible. Her skin became almost opaque in appearance, her body thin, even though her belly became swollen. Her visitors consisted of Gaius, Uther, and one, lone servant, who had been sworn to secrecy on punishment of death. She was called Josiah, and was in her mid-twenties.

Josiah had already had two children, and often comforted Morgana through her sicknesses, and gut-wrenching pains. She would wake up sometimes, her body paralysed in pain, almost like a ripping sensation along her back.

When she first felt the child kick, she was so scared. She'd expected the kicks, both Josiah and Gaius had told her that they would come, but still, it frightened her. Before, she didn't need to accept that she was bearing Arthur's child. Now, she had no choice but to. The fear didn't last very long though. Soon, she anticipated and welcomed the kicks, enjoying the feeling, loving knowing that her son or daughter would soon be ready to be born into the world.

The birth was all she was frightful of.

And when she was almost crippled by a pain in her abdomen, not in her back, and felt something trickle down her legs, she knew it was time. "Josiah…"

"My Lady?" Josiah walked away from the bed she had been busying herself with making.

"I…I think the baby's coming."

Josiah put her hands to her mouth, "Of course, I'll… I'll go get Gaius." Another pain hit her with full force, and she gasped, as Josiah helped her to kneel on the bed, "I'll be right back my Lady."

And with that, she was gone, shutting the door behind her.

The pain continued to rip through her, and before she knew it, she was on all fours, pushing.

It was only minutes until Gaius appeared, and rubbed her back as her own blood began to trickle down her legs, mixing with the ammonic fluids. "Josiah, get some new sheets would you? Morgana's bed sheets will need to be changed."

"Of…of course."

_**Merlin**_

Blood. Blood everywhere. It covered the sheets, it covered her legs, and it covered the child. She held it close to her, crying.

He was perfect. Perfect in every little way. From his black hair and blue eyes, to his pink, wrinkly skin, and ten, tiny fingers and toes. And she knew, knew without any doubt, that Uther would take him away from her. He wouldn't want anybody knowing what his precious son had done to her now would he?

She smiled down at the wriggling, cloth wrapped baby, "Hello baby…"

"Morgana,"

"No."

"Morgana."

"No, Gaius. He can't take him. He can't take my baby."

"And you know that I will try my best to be sure that he doesn't. For now, I've persuaded him to let you keep the child for a little while."

"How…how long?" she continued to gaze at her new born son.

"A week. Possibly two."

She traced a finger across his cheek, "I want to keep him. I'll leave Camelot, live in a hovel, anything. Just let me keep him. My little Mordred."

Gaius rubbed her arm, "Come, you must clean yourself, and your bed sheets need to be changed.

She nodded, "Yes…yes, I should." She gently lay the child into the basinet next to her bed, safe in the knowledge that she would have her son for a time. A short time, yes. But at least it was some time. Gaius gently helped her walk over to where a warm bath was waiting for her. It had been filled only a few minutes before she had started having contractions, so the water was still warm enough to bathe in.

Gently, gingerly, she eased herself in the water. She hissed in pain as the water stung at her skin. She continually kept looking over at her son, unable to believe he was finally here.

Josiah had not returned since Gaius had sent her away, but now she did, carrying bright white sheets in her arms. She glanced at the child, and beamed at Morgana, "You did well, my Lady. He is a fine child." Then, she started pulling away the bloody sheets, and replaced them with, crisp, white, new ones.

"Thank you, Josiah." She slowly pulled herself from the bath, reaching for her bathrobes. After she had dried herself off, she slipped on a nightdress, now falling loosely on her. But, she liked the looseness. She sat on the bed, where Josiah had just finished making it.

Mordred began to wail a little, and Morgana picked him up, and cradled him in her arms, hoping it would stop his cries. "Sh…hush, Mordred."

Josiah smiled at the sight, and tentatively set next to Morgana, "My Lady, he may wish to be fed."

Morgana looked at her, her eyes wide, "How…how would I do that?"

Josiah smiled lightly at the new mother, "Here…"

_**Merlin**_

She slept soundly now. Mordred was fed, and lay sleeping in his basinet.

She did not hear the creaking of her door as it was opened. She did not hear small moan of her new-born son. She was exhausted.

Morgana woke only when Mordred let out a piercing wail. "Mordred..?" she called out, groggy.

"Quickly, take it." A man's voice said in a hushed tone. _Uther._

"Uther? What's…what's happening?" as her eyes focused, she saw an ageing man holding what seemed like a container of sorts in his arms. She looked for the basinet at her bedside, but there was none. "Uther. What are you doing?"

He turned to face her, "Morgana, please. This is for your own good."

"You…you said I had a week. You said I could keep him for a week!"

The man put down the container he was holding, which in turn, turned out to be the basinet, and walked over to Morgana, as she advanced on Uther. It was Gaius, and as swiftly and strongly as he could, he pulled her away from the King.

"I'm sorry Morgana. But it has o be this way"

"_No!_"

"I'm sorry."

"No! _No!_ Uther Pendragon you give me back my child, you give him _back!_" tears soaked her cheeks as she screamed at Uther, clawing at him, pulling on his clothes until his shirt ripped, "You have no right! _No right!_ He is my child, my son, _not yours!_"

"Gaius!" he shouted, and Gaius gave a stronger pull, and she collapsed against him, weeping. He guided her to the bed, slowly, so she barely noticed. They sat, and Morgana pounded her fists against his chest.

"My son! _My son!_"

"I am so sorry… forgive me."

"Gaius, please!"

"I'm sorry." He put his hands on either side of her head, and closed his eyes, "_Ofergietee þæm æwda,__" _she fought him, tried to pull his hands away, but to no avail_,__"__ofergietee þæm ærdæd, ofergietee þæm ándaga, ofergietee þæm áworpennes_." Forget the truth, forget the past, forget the time, forget the cast. Gaius opened his eyes, and a flash of gold went through his blue irises. Morgana became quiet, calm, and as she fell back against her bed, her eyes rolled back into her head. "It is done."

The King nodded, "Good. She'll…she'll never know what happened?"

Gaius shook his head, "Unless sorcery is used, she'll never know the true events of what has happened. We'll tell her that she's been sick for many months, as the people believe she has been, and has started to recover now."

Another nod from the King, "Yes, yes." His eyes looked vacant, "The child…what did she name it?"

"Mordred, sire. She named him Mordred."

"See to it that the child is sent far away. A family at the border's, perhaps."

"Yes my Lord."

Mordred still cried in the basinet near the door.

_**Merlin**_

**A/N: I really hoped you liked it! ****The birthing thing, well, that's how people used to give birth. We still would – I mean, that's how our bodies are meant to – but centuries ago, a King wanted to see his kid being born, so the Queen had to lie down to give birth. Since then, it's just become the norm**** thing to do…*shrug* oh weeeelll. Please review! xXx**


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